


Silver and Storms

by stratusdreams



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Warlock/Patron Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratusdreams/pseuds/stratusdreams
Summary: Wandering monster hunter Odric meets an archfey named Chiara, and agrees to serve as her companion in exchange for her magical gifts.AKA another self indulgent Canon/OC fic :)
Relationships: Odric (Magic: The Gathering)/Original Female Character(s), Odric/Chiara Acardi
Kudos: 1





	Silver and Storms

Odric grunts in exasperation as he cuts through the undergrowth. His axe, heavy and dull, is barely tearing through the foliage at this point. He curses himself for not buying a new one, but he’s running low on gold and it was either a bowl of soup or an axe. He was starving, so of course, he chose the soup.

When he reaches a clearing, he collapses to the ground and loosens his breastplate. Odric is completely exhausted. He knows he really shouldn’t be resting – the beast in the woods has a thousand-gold bounty on its head. He doesn’t have time to waste.

He hears twigs crack behind him, and he wipes the sweat from his forehead as he listens carefully. There’s an odd hum in the air that he can’t place. It’s almost… magical?

“Traveler?” a soft, feminine voice asks. It seems to be stemming from all around him. Odric stands and turns around, his eyes darting from side to side. The clearing is eerily silent except for the voice, which echoes in his ears.

Another twig snaps, and Odric whips around, his hand on the grip of his sword.

  
“No need to be alarmed!” the voice exclaims, and Odric wrinkles his nose.

“Show yourself,” he growls.

“Now, now! It’s not nice to threaten someone who’s trying to help you.” The voice is closer now – right beside his head, in fact. It’s teasing and playful with a touch of intrigue.

  
A flash of light nearly blinds Odric. He falls back to the ground, covering his eyes, then cautiously opens them. He gasps at the being standing before him.

Her skin is a soft lilac that sparkles in the forest’s low light. The being’s hair is fuschia, falling just around her shoulders, curly and satiny. She wears a simple white dress, belted in the middle, hanging just above her knees. Golden ram horns curl just behind her sharp elf-like ears. Her tail lashes behind her, and she stands barefoot in the grass with a gentle smile. Her right hand, gloved in white lace, extends to him. “Stand, traveler.”

“Who… who are you?”

“I’m someone who can help you! But, if you want a name… you may call me Lady Chiara of the Wild Court.” Her eyes are a lovely shade of magenta and betray genuineness that Odric hasn’t seen before.

  
“You’re an archfey?” Odric has heard of the Courts before, and the fickle fey who inhabit them. Pacts can be made with the fey – for a price. His hand finds the pommel of his sword and he swallows hard. “Lady Chiara, what is your business?”

“My business is with you, traveler.” She steps forward, a playful smile tugging on her lips. “I’ve been watching you for some time now. I see your struggles, your triumphs, your tears and your laughter. And I want to help you.” When Odric regards her suspiciously, she giggles. “You humans are so funny, you know that?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean, my Lady?” Even if he doesn’t necessarily trust the fey, he respects them. He also wishes to avoid being turned into a frog.

“You are the most versatile race, they say. Capable of such good and such evil. So knowledgeable, yet so naïve.” She twirls a strand of rouge-pink hair around her finger. Odric feels his money pouch grow heavy; when he opens it, he finds a wealth of gold – more gold than he’s ever seen. “I know you’ve been needing a new axe, based on how you’ve been beating the foliage in the area to death.” Her laugh rings like bells.

“This is real gold?”

“Of course! What do you take me for, a fiend?” She huffs and closes the gap between them. “May I make you a deal, traveler?”

“It depends.” Odric’s breath hitches as she leans in and lays a hand on his chest.

“I’ve heard of the beast in these woods, traveler. It’s a werewolf who has had the humanity ripped from him, and now he’s trapped in the body of a monster. His spirit must be freed.” She traces the engravings on his breastplate as she speaks. “He is powerful, traveler. You’ll need assistance to end his sorrow.”

“And you’ll assist me?”

“Of course! I want to help the poor soul. And I know you want to as well. So here’s my deal to you: I give you a taste of my power to free the soul from the beast’s body, and if you want more power after… you become my warlock, and I become your patron.”

“What do you get from this pact?” Odric asks softly.

“Companionship. I’m dreadfully lonely, traveler. I’m a relatively young fey, and I’ve never had a warlock. I don’t really have any friends, either. All I ask for is for you to be kind to me and keep me in your life.” She pauses, looking up at him through her thick, dark lashes. “Should you choose to become my warlock after our battle today, we’ll seal our pact with a kiss. If these terms are good for you, do we have a deal?”

Odric feels a pang in his heart as he gazes into Chiara’s sorrowful eyes. “Deal.”

Chiara waves her hand, and Odric feels himself imbued with a fraction of her power. His breathing pauses as the magic washes over him. It feels… warm. Safe.

“I’ll be right behind you. Go,” the archfey whispers in his ear.

And go he does.

His senses are alight. Everything in the forest is sharper than normal – the scent of the grass after last night’s rain, the perfume of wild roses, the chirping of birds, the uncertain footsteps of does and their fawns. Every being within his field of vision is lit up with a gorgeous violet, not unlike the skin of Lady Chiara. He can hear the beast’s breathing up ahead.

Lightning crackles from his blade as soon as he pulls his sword out of his scabbard. The wolf-beast snarls, its thick fur soaked in blood. Odric charges forward; he can feel a surge of energy leave his sword and collide with the wolf. It launches itself at him and knocks him over. He grabs at its throat, his hands sinking into its pelt.

Odric jabs his blade upward and, through the rush of blood in his ears, he hears the beast howl in agony. With a blast of lightning from his sword, it fell off of him and scrambled to its feet. It charges again, its teeth sinking into his shoulder armor, and he hisses. Blood makes his armor slick; Odric finds it hard to find his footing, and he grunts in pain as he feels the beast’s fangs connect. With fury and power he hasn’t felt before, Odric’s blade releases lightning into the beast’s body, and it shudders once before falling to the ground.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, standing shakily.

“Fuck indeed,” Chiara says as she manifests at his side. She inspects the wound in his shoulder, and with a flourish of her gloved hand, it’s healed. The fey gives him a cheerful smile. “So, what do you think?”

Odric holds his blade in front of his face, inspecting it carefully. “That felt powerful. Thank you – really, Lady Chiara.”

She steps in front of him and cups his cheek in her soft hand. It’s a moment before Odric realizes she must be floating, because she’s able to tilt his chin up to look down on him. “So… will you form a pact with me? Be my companion, travel by my side, stay with me for as long as time allows?”

He swallows hard. Her price is simple – and he finds her presence exhilarating. Her powers could help him in his quest to slay the monsters of the world. There is no downside.

“Yes, Lady Chiara.”

“Then it’s settled. Tell me your name, traveler, and our pact will be complete.”

Giving an archfey your name is dangerous. But there can be no turning back now. To bring down the wrath of an archfey is a fate worse than death. He takes a deep breath, then speaks. “Odric.”

“Odric,” Lady Chiara repeats with intoxicating sweetness, stroking the scar on his cheek. She leans close, and Odric’s head is filled with the scent of roses and parchment, like an old music room in a church. Then, her lips touch his.

Odric has never been kissed like this in his fifty-five years. Her lips are soft and full, and her hand rests daintily on his cheek. He can’t help but place his hands on her waist to pull her in closer. Every nerve in his body feels alive, each ending pulsing in time with his heart. It feels like the very lightning Chiara allowed him to channel through his sword is not flowing through his veins. It’s frightening and beautiful and overwhelming all at once, and Odric can barely stand. His knees feel like they could give in at any moment.

When Chiara pulls away, the sun is behind her, basking her lavender skin in a beautiful glow. She seems to be illuminated from the inside. “Our pact is sealed,” she whispers. “I have bound myself to your will, and you to mine. Now, my dear traveler, where will our path take us?”

Odric blinks. He’s still in shock. “Well… since the monster is dead, we could always go back to the inn?”

  
Her giggle is sickeningly sweet. “I like the way you think, Odric. I’m glad you’re stuck with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! this is just a lil project for me to indulge in between work and writing TDC (which is also self indulgent...)! Not sure how often I'll update or even if the story will be linear but we'll get there, yeah?


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